


(Are You) Running Out Of Time

by SyverneSien



Series: Ashes to Ashes (MCYT AU) [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Earth, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Ashes AU, Backstory, End of the World, Explosions, Gen, Light Angst, Mutant Powers, Natural Disasters, Partial Mind Control, Platonic Relationships, Poisoning, Portals, Post-Apocalypse, The Nether (Minecraft), Video Game Mechanics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:22:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27254128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SyverneSien/pseuds/SyverneSien
Summary: The world is in shambles. Disaster after disaster has caused great changes to come across the face of the planet and those few who have survived. Jordan managed to escape. So did Hank, the scientist that Jordan finds passed out on his doorstep. Unsure of their places in this new world, Jordan and Hank are drawn to a survivors' refuge called 'SMPLive'... and though they survived the end of the world, they may not be so lucky again.orIt's the end of the world, and Jordan and Hank are having tea.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Taylor Harris & Jordan Maron
Series: Ashes to Ashes (MCYT AU) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1989964
Comments: 19
Kudos: 42





	1. The Fires & The Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for checking out my fic! If you haven't read the other Ashes AU instalment, A Winter's Ball, yet, I recommend that you do so, as this story is designed to provide more backstory for people who enjoyed the other work! However, it is not required to understand this one, and I will not force you to read it. Hope you enjoy!

_ “...a series of chain volcanic eruptions, ending with the eruption of a freak supervolcano, is predicted to start in a week’s time, causing unknown but likely disastrous consequences for the citizens of the United States and possibly the rest of the world. Residents of coastal cities especially are being advised to consider evacuating east or further into the mainland as a precautionary measure-” _

Jordan turned the radio off there. He’d heard enough. He lived in California, alone, with no family ties and no close friends to be found. Yes, people were preaching that the whole volcano situation was a hoax, and even the government was saying that it was possible that the whole thing would end up being nothing… but frankly, Jordan didn’t want to risk it, and he had nothing to lose by heading further inland for a few weeks or so.

The day after that news broadcast aired, Jordan loaded his bags into his car, slung a comfortable red coat over his shoulders, and drove away from his house in Los Angeles, convinced that he would be back soon and that there was nothing to worry about.

For years to come, Jordan would thank whatever higher power might exist that he had made that decision.

Because the volcanoes didn’t erupt in one week. They erupted in one day.

And Jordan stood and watched everything he loved burn.

Technology stopped working a short while after that. Phones, then radio, then the car itself, and Jordan was forced to abandon it. After the first night, when he slept in his car and hoped that when he woke up everything would be revealed to be just a nightmare, Jordan went on foot.

It was on the third day, as he realized he wouldn’t be able to stay alive much longer, that the desperation started to set in and Jordan discovered that he had changed along with everything else. Not mentally - no, Jordan was still very much shell-shocked and grieving for the life he could not go back to - but more in the sense that when he punched a tree out of frustration, the tree broke and not his fist. Although Jordan had barely stepped into the great outdoors in his life, creating tools and materials out of the wood and things around him came instinctively. And when he bled, a few moments of rest caused the wound to heal up almost instantly.

But the strangest thing was when testing out the bow he had strung using some cobwebs and branches, he took down a deer with a shot directly through the eye, leaving the carcass perfectly unmarked and the kill completely clean.

Jordan cooked it over a fire, struggling to figure out how to keep the rest of the meat he couldn’t eat, and trying not to think about it.

(By ‘it’, Jordan meant the fact that he was somehow a flawless killer despite never having shot a bow in his life. And it disturbed him, though he didn’t want to admit it to himself.)

Within a month, Jordan was living as comfortably as he could be in a small cabin in the middle of nowhere, feeding himself off of berries that he recklessly ate even though he might stumble upon poisonous ones at some point and the occasional kill (he didn’t like hunting - as stupid as it sounded, he felt bad about it), and trying (and failing) to convince himself that he was not the last man on Earth.

* * *

The snapping of twigs resonated through Jordan’s open window, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up. He halted the motion of sharpening the knife in his hand, narrowing dull blue eyes as he listened for more sounds. The snapping of branches and swishing of leaves in such configuration alerted Jordan, though he didn’t know why, that there was something large and injured stumbling around outside his (not home,  _ not home, _ home had gone up in flames) cabin. Jordan nearly set down the knife on the table in front of him before reconsidering - if the thing outside was dangerous, he would want it on hand - and he weighed it in his palm instead. Silently, Jordan crept across the wooden boards to his front door, more curious and wanting to confront this creature than scared of it, and pulled it open in one swift movement.

Jordan blinked. A man was standing outside his door, looking frail, as if he would collapse at any moment. Instinct pushed him to order this stranger away - he could be dangerous and Jordan didn’t want to take that risk - but despite that, Jordan dropped the knife onto the ground and took a step out, intending to question this man about where he’d come from.

The man jolted forward and Jordan nearly hit him in the face, thinking that he was being attacked, before he latched onto Jordan’s arm and stumbled and Jordan realized that he was on the verge of passing out. The stranger’s black hair was ruffled and tangled and his dark eyes seemed to be having a hard time focusing on Jordan’s face. Simply put, he looked like he’d been through hell.

“Hey… hey, are you okay?” Jordan asked, trying to steady the stranger. “What’s your name? What happened to you?” he demanded, holding the stranger’s arms so that Jordan could keep him upright but not bring him too close in case it was all an elaborate trick. Months in the woods by himself during the end of the world had made Jordan inclined to be paranoid.

The stranger mumbled something that sounded like ‘Hank’ and ‘venom’, and so Jordan assumed that the man’s name must be Hank and he must have been poisoned by… something. Who knew what was running around in this twisted world where the clouds were ash and rained acid? Jordan had certainly seen quite a few animals he knew weren’t natural since fleeing from LA, and even a strange skeletal monster that had been shambling around at the end of the night, but it had burned up into nothing in the sunlight before Jordan could get a good look at it.

“Hank, I don’t know if I can help you, but I can at least give you somewhere safe to-”  _ die _ was what Jordan almost said, but he figured that would not be the most reassuring statement, and he instead ended with, “-sleep.”

Hank mumbled something incoherent and Jordan sighed. He was trying to be careful, but… this man could be his only way to know what was going on in the outside world. Jordan couldn’t try to save him without taking the risk that he wasn’t dangerous. And so Jordan picked up the stranger in his arms and carried him inside.

* * *

By Jordan’s best estimate, it was a full day before Hank woke up. The cabin consisted of only one room, and so while Jordan was boiling tea at one end, he could see the stranger stirring in Jordan’s bed at the other. Jordan left the pot and walked over, having feared for Hank’s life throughout the entire ordeal, and reassured by the fact that he seemed to be regaining consciousness.

Jordan sat down on a small chair he’d set up next to the bed and murmured, “Hank?”

Hank rolled over, blinking bleary eyes at Jordan. He tried to sit up, but Jordan gently put out a hand and pushed him back down. “...where am I?” he mumbled. “Who are you?”

Jordan hesitated for a beat before answering, “I’m Jordan. You passed out in front of my cabin, so I brought you inside.” Jordan paused. “Where are you from?”

“Maine,” Hank answered quietly. “Was in California on work when… it all happened.” Hank sighed. “My name’s Ant.”

“You said it was Hank when you passed out,” Jordan commented, confused. “I must have misheard… you can’t blame me, though, Ant’s kind of an odd name.”

Hank - or Ant, Jordan supposed - laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. I do like Hank, actually. You can call me that if you want, Jordan.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter.”

There was a brief pause. “I’ve been out here for a few months - I managed to get out right before everything went to hell,” said Jordan, breaking the silence. “My radio went kaput shortly afterwards, so I don’t… I don’t know what’s going on out there.”

“You want to know what I know,” Hank supplied, to which Jordan nodded. “Alright. Let me get up and I’ll give you everything I’ve got. Do you have a map or a piece of paper and a pen?”

Jordan shook his head. “No map, but paper and a pen, yeah,” he answered. “I’ll get those for you. I also made tea if you want some.” Jordan stood up, glancing back at Hank before he made his way back towards the other end of the room.

“That sounds nice, thank you, Jordan,” Hank replied. Jordan heard a groan and a creak as Hank started to sit up. “Damn, that’s way worse than I expected.” Hank grimaced. “How long have I been out, exactly?”

“About a day, I think,” Jordan answered, picking paper, a quill, and an inkpot from a shelf, then setting about getting the tea ready. “You in pain or just sore?”

“Just sore,” Hank replied as he jumped down from the bed and steadied himself against the wall. “I’ll be fine. Man, I’m so stupid.”

“What happened to you?” Jordan asked. He tucked the paper under one arm and balanced the two cups of tea and the quill and ink in his hands as he went back to the table in the centre of the single room, where Hank had already sat down on the couch.

“I… well, this is going to sound very far-fetched and idiotic, but I was fleeing through the forest away from the fires and the earthquakes and the tsunamis and my wrists started burning, right?” Hank took the cup that Jordan offered him and paused for a moment. “So I decided to take a look at them and there was something poking through my skin, almost like a bee stinger. And I accidentally stabbed myself with it while trying to figure out what it was.”

“You’re right, it does sound far-fetched,” Jordan grunted, “but I’ve seen enough far-fetched these last few months to believe it. Besides, you certainly  _ looked _ like you’d been poisoned by something.” He hesitated, cracking a small smile as he added, “And stupid enough for it to be yourself.”

“You watch yourself,” Hank jibed back, pointing an accusing finger at Jordan, “or I’ll sting you too.” Then they both laughed, before dissolving into awkward silence, and Jordan sat down on the sofa next to Hank. “Got that paper?”

“Right here,” Jordan answered, putting it and the quill and ink down on the coffee table. “You were out here on work when everything happened, you said? What’s your job?”

Hank bit his lip. “This is just going to make me sound even  _ more _ stupid,” he said. “I’m a biomedical engineer and a toxicologist.” He snorted. “To be fair, how was I supposed to know that it was going to knock me out?”

“I guess you have a point,” Jordan admitted. “So, what do you know about… what went on out there?”

“You live here in California, right?” Hank started, drawing the paper over to him and jotting the outline of California on the page. When Jordan nodded, he went on. “I assume you’ve heard of the San Andreas fault, then.”

“It has something to do with earthquakes and it goes straight through Cali, right?” Jordan asked.

“Yeah. Bit more complicated than that, though. I’ll try to explain it as simply as I can - I may not be an expert, but I know enough.” Hank drew a line on the paper, almost along the west coast of California but not quite. “The San Andreas fault line is where two of Earth’s tectonic plates had been stuck against each other for hundreds of years. The plates are always slowly moving, but these two were wedged so tightly that they were building up pressure that had yet to be released. The longer they stayed stuck, the more devastating the earthquakes would be when they finally shifted apart.” Hank hesitated. “The San Andreas fault was overdue for a massive earthquake for over two hundred years.”

“I’ve noticed that you’re using past tense,” Jordan pointed out. “Did the volcanic eruptions… set off the fault line?”

Hank nodded slowly. “You were so, so lucky that you got out before the eruptions started. There was a short grace period before the fault line went off, but not long enough for the authorities to call for a mass emergency evacuation. Los Angeles and the rest of the California coast burned and was then swallowed by the waves.” Hank hesitated again. “It’s all gone. And from what I can figure out, hardly anywhere in the rest of the  _ entire United States _ was spared from the eruptions and following natural disasters. Even just the ash plumes are strong enough to be deadly in most places.”

“Oh,” was all Jordan had to say. He took a sip of his tea as an excuse to not reply, mulling over this new information and feeling hollow inside. He’d been hoping for good news. Instead, it turned out that he’d inadvertently survived the end of the world.

“It’s a lot, I know,” Hank murmured. “I’m… I’m sorry, Jordan.” He put his arm around Jordan’s shoulders and tugged them both closer together. “Did you… did you have family there?”

“I… I hadn’t seen them in a long time, but up further north, yeah,” Jordan mumbled weakly. “I just… it’s so goddamn surreal, you know? Everything’s all fucked up and I’m still alive. Why am I still alive, Hank?”

Hank sighed. “I don’t know, but we can figure it out together. Try to keep going. It’ll be easier with two of us.” Hank went for a reassuring smile, but Jordan just stared at the ground instead. “Jordan. It’ll be okay-”

“No, it won’t,” Jordan growled, abruptly standing up. “I’m going hunting. Don’t wreck my shit, Hankvenom.” He marched over to the door, unhooking his bow and quiver of arrows from beside it, and threw it open, before aggressively slamming it shut behind him. So screw him, he was upset. Of course he was upset. What the hell was he supposed to do now?


	2. The Duel & The Experiment

“Jordan,” Hank called tersely. “Look.” He grinned up at Jordan as the other man walked towards him, Jordan’s brow furrowed in slight confusion and curiosity. Hank twisted a dial on the radio he was sitting next to, and for the first time in almost half a year, the static gave way to a faint and grainy voice, yet a voice nonetheless.

_ “...if you’re hearing this, that means that you’re alive! And if you’re alive, you will be welcome into SMPLive, the only west coast refuge for survivors of the Night of Ash. We pride ourselves on-”  _

Hank clicked it off there, looking over at Jordan. “I’ve been listening to this broadcast over and over again since I managed to get the radio working while you were out. As you could probably hear, it’s for SMPLive, which is apparently a place for survivors to come and live and work together,” Hank explained. “I think we should go, Sparklez.”

‘Sparklez’ was Hank’s revenge for ‘Hank’, a nickname that had been given to Jordan after he had told Hank the story of the unfortunate glitter incident (don’t ask) at his last workplace. Jordan had long since come to terms with the fact that he would never live it down, just like how Hank would never live down stinging himself.

“Where is it?” Jordan asked, sitting down across from Hank.

“Not far from here, actually,” Hank said. “I want to go, just so that we can see what it’s about. We don’t have much to lose, Jordan. Things can only go up - who knows, we might even make some friends.” Hank smiled.

“Hm,” Jordan grunted. “I guess you have a point. I trust you, because you didn’t kill me, and if you trust this random radio broadcast-”

“Jordan!” Hank interrupted sharply. “What else do you want us to do, sit around here in the middle of nowhere for the rest of our lives? They could have valuable information and resources… we might  _ need _ these people, if things go south again!”

“I  _ know, _ Hank, but that doesn’t make me any less anxious about it!” Jordan shouted. Then he paused and let out a long sigh. “I’ll… I’ll think about it, Hank. My car’s fried, so we’d have to walk to wherever this place is. Even if we do go, I can’t guarantee I’ll want to stay.”

“I’d expect nothing less from a wise man such as yourself,” Hank responded, inclining his head to his friend. “You think about it. I’ll see if I can get anything else on the radio.” And with that, Hank went back to fiddling with the dials, filling the room once more with static.

* * *

“Hank,” Jordan whispered. His friend didn’t look back.  _ “Hank!” _ he hissed, casting another glance over his shoulder at the trees.

“What, Sparklez?” Hank hissed back, stopping in his tracks.

“No, keep walking. Act natural,” Jordan said, pushing Hank along. He then leaned over and murmured, “We’re being followed.”

“Of course we are,” Hank responded. “If I was running a shelter for survivors of an apocalyptic event, I would also want to follow newcomers around and see if they’re dangerous.” Hank shot Jordan a look that screamed ‘really?’ “Anything else I should know about, Sparkly?”

Jordan let go of Hank’s arm and sheepishly muttered, “Nothing else, Hankvenom.”

“You know, that somehow doesn’t sound stupid when you say it,” Hank commented. “The only odd thing about it is that you say it like it’s one word. Hank Venom would make more sense.”

“I’m sorry that you don’t think my dumb nickname for you is grammatically correct,” Jordan shot back. “Considering the fact that I majored in English and you were a biomedical engineer with an interest in toxicology, though, I think one of us is more qualified to speak on the subject than the other.”

“Touché,” Hank replied with a grin. “C’mon, I think I see it.”

Jordan quickened his pace to match Hank’s as they continued to make their way through the forest, aiming for the structures they could see at the edge of the woods. The suspicious movements behind them continued, with Jordan casting glances over his shoulder every few moments.

They soon reached a wooden barrier (not quite a wall), where they could see a young man sitting on the other side, presumably guarding it. At the sight of them, he jumped up and retrieved a crossbow from behind the barrier. It seemed to be just a precaution, though, because he didn’t point it at either of them.

“My name is Jordan,” Jordan called out. He gestured to Hank. “And this is Hank. We heard there was a gathering place for survivors out here…”

The young man fiddled around with a padlock for a few moments before he managed to unlock the gate and pull it open. He passed through to meet them on the other side, seeming nervous by the way his eyes were darting around. “You- you can call me Cooper,” he said. “You’re in the right place. Welcome to SMPLive.” Cooper took a step back, glancing between Jordan and Hank. “Why don’t you come through and I’ll explain what the deal is here?”

Jordan looked at Hank, who shrugged and gestured for Jordan to go forward. Jordan went first, then Hank followed him, and Cooper started to lead them towards the oddly-shaped buildings in the middle of town.

“SMPLive is a refuge-slash-town for survivors,” Cooper explained as they turned onto a cobblestone path that seemed to be the main road. “Anybody who comes here can build anything they’d like. There aren’t many rules - basically don’t kill anyone and you’re fine. Pranks and regulated 1v1s in the arena are encouraged. A few people get more specific rules based on their mutations, but those are the basics.”

“Mutations?” Jordan questioned.

“Oh, you’re some of the ones that haven’t figured it out yet, then,” Cooper commented, glancing back at Jordan and Hank. “Everybody that survived has some kind of mutation. You’ll find yours eventually - or if you don’t, well, it’ll be good to know that it’s not everyone like we think.” Cooper paused in front of a large tower that seemed to be made out of melons. “That’s what the arena’s for. Fun, and also trying to get people’s mutations to reveal themselves if they’re new.”

Hank met Jordan’s eyes. “My stingers,” he said, turning over his arms so that his wrists were facing up. “They’d be a mutation.”

“Do you have any idea what yours could be, Jordan?” Cooper asked, turning to Jordan.

Jordan shook his head. “No,” he answered. There was an awkward pause. “So, Cooper, what sort of things do people build? I can see the, er, amazing melon tower…”

“Oh, this? They call it Carson’s Mom. The suites are super expensive, though,” Cooper said. “Other than that, well, people build houses, obviously, and then Dinkster has his electronic tic-tac-toe board and elevator, and Schlatt has the giant Schlattcoin. Ryan and Altrive are building some sort of castle, and there was a courthouse but somebody blew it up.”

  
“Someone blew up the courthouse,” Hank repeated. “Why?”

Cooper shrugged. “Because they wanted to? It was probably Ted or Joko, but I’m not going to go hunt them down. Connor and Travis have offered to help rebuild it anyway.”

“So it’s like organized chaos,” Hank commented. “You can do whatever you want as long as it’s not too much of a problem.”

“Yeah,” Cooper responded. “Everybody knows each other and the rules, so if something gets fucked up, it’s handled how we think it should best be handled. Most personal things are settled in the arena. There are so few of us that we don’t have to deal with organized punishments or anything like that. We just… survive and have fun, you know?” Cooper started walking again, leading Jordan and Hank further down the street.

“Sounds great,” Hank replied.

“Sounds dangerous,” Jordan added.

Cooper laughed. “C’mon, I’ll show you two an open area and you can start getting houses set up. If you want to, you can swing by here tonight. Dinkster is going to set off fireworks.” Cooper grinned. “You won’t want to miss it. Dink’s mutation is electricity, and he already had a real knack for engineering, so it’s going to be great.”

* * *

“You think I should get thrown into the arena so that it forces my mutation to show up?” Jordan questioned, staring at Hank and Altrive over his sunglasses. “That is an insane, terrible, idiotic, dangerous, crazy-”

“Insane and crazy are synonyms, Sparkly,” Hank interrupted, cracking a smile.

“Whatever.”

“And yes, I do think so,” Hank continued. “It’s proven. That’s how Altrive figured his out, right?” Hank looked over at Altrive for reassurance.

“Wh- oh, yeah, yeah, that’s how I figured out mine,” Altrive said quickly. “It’s perfectly safe, Jordan. You can even go up against Hank if you want - he won’t beat you too badly, I’m sure.” Altrive snickered.

“What do you say, Jordan? 1v1 against me in the arena?” Hank prompted.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Jordan reiterated, turning away from Hank and Altrive. “I’m going to keep working on my-”  _ house _ was what he was going to say, but he stopped short as Hank made a clucking noise. “What was that?” he demanded, spinning back around.

“Nothing…” Hank sang innocently. “Absolutely nothing.”

Jordan narrowed his eyes and started towards the entrance to his underground base, before much louder and more enthusiastic chicken noises started to come from Altrive. Hank joined in, though he quickly started to giggle and broke off.

Altrive stopped squawking as Jordan glared at him, trying to explain through his laughter. “It’s- it’s ‘cause you’re a chicken!” Altrive declared.

“I’m not chicken!” Jordan objected. “I just don’t think that beating the shit out of my friend for no reason is a wise thing to do.”

“You’re just worried that I’ll beat the shit out of you in front of all of our new friends,” Hank taunted, smirking.

Jordan scowled and adjusted his coat collar. “Fine. Let’s do this,” he growled.

* * *

“On the left side - his name is Hank and he’s venomous, it’s… Hankvenom!” someone, Jordan thought his name was Sneeg, though it might have also been Mason, shouted from the arena’s viewing stands up above. “On the right side - you may think he’s just a tired old man,” Jordan bristled at that, “but he’s actually super jacked, it’s… Sparklez!”

Jordan drew his sword and hefted up the shield on his arm. The door behind him slammed shut, preventing him from running back out of the arena. He took a deep breath.

“Three… two… one… Applebee’s!” Sneeg-or-maybe-Mason yelled, and the fight began.

“I’ll go easy on you, old man!” Hank teased, darting behind a cactus. Jordan stormed towards the pit of lava, still angry that he’d been pressured into fighting anyway.

“I’ll crush you like any other insect,” Jordan snarled, slicing down a few stalks of bamboo. “Come out here, Hank!” He heard footsteps and whirled around, lifting his shield to block a strong downward blow from Hank’s sword. Jordan pushed back, making Hank stagger, and went in with a swipe of his own, though Hank twisted his wrist and caught Jordan’s sword with the edge of his blade to deflect it.

Jordan dipped back around the lava pit, not wanting to chance getting knocked into it. “Bit harder than you thought, huh?” Jordan taunted, heart racing. He couldn’t describe what he was feeling, though one thing was for sure - adrenaline was coursing through his veins like fire.

“Shut up and let me beat you,” Hank grumbled and charged forward again.

Jordan was expecting another sword attack, so he raised his shield, but instead, Hank slammed into him with his shield and knocked them both into the dirt. Hank recovered quickly, being smaller and more in control of the situation, but Jordan struggled to get off his back with the shield on his arm. He dropped his sword on the ground and quickly moved to unstrap the shield, letting it fall as he prioritized getting back up over keeping his defence. Jordan stood up, grabbing the sword again as he did so, and went to pick up the shield as well, but a quick sword swipe from Hank forced him to abandon it.

Jordan grabbed the hilt of his sword with both hands and went on the attack, trying to push Hank back so that he could grab the shield again. He slammed blow after blow against Hank’s shield, leaving deep gashes in the painted wood, but as he began to tire and hesitate, Hank retrieved the upper hand again.

It was so perfect that Jordan was sure Hank hadn’t done it on purpose - the point of Hank’s sword flicked underneath the hilt of Jordan’s, where he was holding it, and momentum flung Jordan’s sword from his grip. Then came the shield slam again, knocking Jordan back into the wall and making him see stars.

“Stop,” Jordan mumbled while trying to regain his balance. “Stop, I’m done.” But he knew Hank couldn’t hear him. He needed to speak louder. Needed to  _ make _ Hank hear him and listen to him.

Hank advanced, lifting his sword again. Jordan didn’t care about his honour, or winning the fight. He just wanted this to be over.

_ “Stop!” _ Jordan shouted, forcing all the energy he could muster into his voice. Hank halted in his tracks, with a slight lurch as if he’d been grabbed by behind. “I yield,” he croaked. “I yield.”

* * *

“You’re fine, just a bit stunned,” Cooper said. “Hank really did a number on you, huh?” He smirked.

Jordan scowled. “Stop that,” he retorted. “I know exactly what you’re trying to get at and I’m not in the mood.” He sat back against the wall, breathing a long exhale out through his nose. “Your joke sucked anyway.”

Cooper shrugged. “Could’ve made a better one if you’d gone with it.” Cooper stood, casting a glance over his shoulder at the double doors out of the area underneath the arena. “I gotta go see how Connor and Travis are getting on at the courthouse.”

“Go,” Jordan urged him. “Like you said, I’m fine.”

Cooper narrowed his eyes, as if he didn’t quite believe that, but left anyway. And then, as if he’d been waiting for Cooper to pass, Hank dipped into the room.

“What the fuck was that?” Hank demanded immediately, striding up to the bed on which Jordan was resting.

“Not even a ‘hi, how are you doing’?” Jordan retorted dryly.

“Hi, how are you doing,  _ what the fuck was that?” _ Hank repeated, even more forcefully.

“Hank, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jordan sighed. “I’m a little exhausted right now, so if it could wait until later…” He raised an eyebrow hopefully.

“No, we’re doing this now,” Hank insisted. “I know what your mutation is, Sparklez. You can  _ control minds.” _

Jordan blinked. “I… I think I would know if I could… y’know… do something like that,” Jordan responded slowly. He laughed nervously. “What, um, what makes you think this?”

Hank hesitated for a moment. “Can I sit?” he asked abruptly, to which Jordan nodded. Hank slumped down on the bed next to Jordan and muttered, “Thanks.”

“What’s up?” Jordan asked, sitting forward. The situation was getting a bit more serious than he had anticipated - Hank looked genuinely troubled. “Hank. What did I do?”

“When you told me to stop,” Hank murmured tentatively, “and I did… that wasn’t voluntary. I just froze, completely and unnaturally, because you told me to. It was like when… when doctors use electric shocks to force your muscles to contract, it was like that, but not painful. Does that make sense?”

“I mean, yeah, it does, but how does this connect to me being able to control minds? And are you sure you’re not misremembering? It  _ was _ in the middle of a duel…” Jordan said.

“I’m  _ sure _ you - albeit unintentionally - controlled me,  _ forced _ me to stop.” Hank paused. “I’m not misremembering, Jordan. At least it’s a start.”

Jordan was silent for a few moments. “I don’t want you to be right,” he murmured. “I don’t want that kind of power. It’s not… it’s too…” He hesitated. “I don’t want to quote Spider-Man at you, but responsibility and that shit.”

Hank sighed. “Yeah. I get what you’re saying,” he replied. “It was just really fucking weird, y’know? Figured you should at least know about it.” He glanced over at Jordan. “I won’t tell anybody else.”

“Thanks.” Jordan nervously tapped his fingers on his leg. “I mean, it would be cool if that was my power, but at the same time it’d be hard to trust someone if you knew they could make you do whatever they wanted, right? And it would be really hard to judge what a moral or appropriate use of that kind of power would be…”

“You don’t want to have to deal with all of that,” Hank provided. “And so if it was your power, you wouldn’t want anybody else to know about it because you’d never use it anyway and it would cause unnecessary issues. I know you better than you think, Jordan.” Hank clapped him on the shoulder. “You can trust me. As long as you don’t use it on me again.”

Jordan shuddered. “If that’s my power, I never want to use it again  _ period,” _ he assured Hank. “Who knows, it could end up being something else.”

“Yeah. Yeah! Maybe I am completely wrong.” Hank went for a reassuring smile, but the effect was negated when he added, “I don’t think so, but-”

“It’s fine,” Jordan interrupted. “I’ll figure it out on my own.” He paused. “I’m going back to my house. I have to finish building a wall.” Jordan stood up, grabbing his red coat from where it had been neatly folded beside him.

“Aren’t you going to come to the firework display?” Hank asked, standing up with him. “Cooper  _ did _ invite you…”

“I’ve had enough for today,” Jordan replied. “I’m exhausted, Hank.”

“I’ll tell everyone you went to sleep, then,” Hank said. “Could I stop by in the morning and see how you’re doing?”

“Not at the crack of stupid, but late morning, yeah,” Jordan agreed. “Er… enjoy the fireworks.”

“Thanks,” Hank responded with a grin. “G’night, Sparkly.”

“Yeah, goodnight, Ant.”

* * *

“That was the first time you called me Ant,” Hank commented, walking over to where Jordan was crammed into an awkward spot trying to fix the redstone mechanism Hank had called him for help with.

“What?” Jordan grunted, brushing red dust off of his hands.

“We were talking about last night and the fireworks - last night was the first time you called me Ant,” Hank clarified. “You’ve only ever called me Hank.”

“Oh,” Jordan said. He was silent for a few moments, unsure of what else to say, before deciding to change the topic. “Why did you call me for help with this? I thought you were an engineer.”

“Biomedical engineer,” Hank corrected. “I was always more proficient in chemistry than the mechanical stuff. Besides, you seem to have a knack for it.” He nodded to where Jordan had connected an elaborate system of repeaters and wires.

Jordan hesitated. “I was a mechanic,” he explained quietly. “Fixing things is what I do.”

“I thought you said you were an English major?” Hank questioned, eyebrows furrowing as he regarded his friend.

“I dropped out,” Jordan murmured, refusing to elaborate.

“Ah,” Hank said, and didn’t push it.

Jordan hesitated, connecting a few more wires, before looking back up at Hank. “There’s something else you want to say,” he identified.

Hank sighed. “Don’t freak out, but we - Dinkster, me, and a few others - have reason to believe that obsidian can create a portal into another dimension. We’re performing our first test tomorrow night,” he explained. “Don’t tell anybody else, you’re the only one outside the group that knows and that’s because you’re my closest friend and I want you to know what’s going on in my life. And also, as I said, don’t freak out.”

“You’re going to try to open an interdimensional portal in the middle of a post-apocalyptic civilization without telling anyone?!” Jordan shouted.

Hank glared at him. “I said don’t freak out! Twice, actually!”

“Well, too bad!” Jordan shot back. “I am very actively freaking out, Hankvenom, because that is  _ insanity!” _ Jordan stood up abruptly. “Why haven’t you told Cooper that you’re doing this?”

“Because it’s not a big deal! It’s perfectly safe, Jordan, we don’t even know if it’s going to  _ work,” _ Hank insisted.

“If you don’t know if it’s going to work, then it’s not perfectly safe,” Jordan retorted. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t tell Cooper about what you’re doing.”

“Because you love me?” Hank drawled sarcastically. “I don’t know! Because it’s not a big deal and if you tell Cooper it’ll ruin all of our work?”

“How much work could you have done in one day?” Jordan demanded.

“They had most of it done already, I just got recruited into the project,” Hank explained. “Jordan,  _ please, _ you can come work on the project if you want, if you wanted to double-check all of our safety precautions I’m sure nobody would object if it stopped you from ratting us out.”

Jordan hesitated. “Fine,” he muttered. “As long as you don’t put anybody in danger… fine."

“It’s perfectly safe,” Hank reassured him again. “Thanks, Jordan.”

“You’d better be right about that,” Jordan warned.

“If we’re wrong, you’ll have bigger things to worry about than whether or not Cooper knows what we’re up to,” Hank responded, and it was the opposite of reassuring.

* * *

Jordan knew something was wrong the instant Hank charged past him in the middle of town, helmet clutched in his hands. Hank didn’t even glance at him, just sprinted in the direction of Dinkster’s tower. Though it was only a glimpse, Jordan could see that Hank was panicked.

“Hank!” Jordan shouted, turning on his heel and racing after his friend. “Hank?” Jordan struggled to keep up, though he was physically fit enough, Hank had a head start.

Hank beckoned that Jordan should follow him, which he was already doing, and called back, “Can’t talk, Jordan!”

Jordan reached forward and caught Hank by the arm. “Yes, you can - explain and I can help,” Jordan insisted. “Hank, please.”

Hank mumbled something that sounded like ‘Dinkster got trapped in the Nether.’

_ “What?!” _

“Dinkster got trapped in the Nether!” Hank hissed. “And I’m going to go rescue him! He was supposed to be back ten minutes ago, and the portal’s still active, so I’m going to go through on a retrieval mission.” Hank glanced around at the barren city centre. “It’ll be fine, just let me go.” Hank tried to tug his arm out of Jordan’s grip, but Jordan held fast.

“No,” Jordan objected. “You know it’s dangerous, Hank, Jesus Christ, what if the reason he hasn’t come back is because the portal’s swamped in lava? Or because there’s a killer monster prowling around it? Or because he’s  _ dead?” _ Jordan knew he was being harsh, but he didn’t want to see Hank getting hurt. “I didn’t even know you guys were doing human testing yet!”

“We were considering it, and then Dinkster volunteered because the whole project was his idea in the first place. This was a few weeks in the making - Dinkster knew the risks when he went in, and so did the rest of us, and I said that if he didn’t come back within the allotted window, I would go after him with the fire protection armour we all pitched in for,” Hank said hurriedly.

“If he knew the risks then you should let him get back by himself,” Jordan growled. “Do you even know what it  _ looks like _ on the other side?”

Hank hesitated.

“You shouldn’t go through. I’ll wait with you for him to come back, although I’m still furious that you didn’t tell me you were doing human testing in the first place, but you shouldn’t go through that thing,” Jordan insisted.

Hank wrenched his arm out of Jordan’s hand. “I swore I would go after him,” he shot back. “You’re not my only friend. I’m loyal to them as well. And frankly, I don’t want to let them down nor do I want Dinkster to die because I was too much of a coward to rescue him!”

Jordan hesitated. “It wouldn’t be cowardice,” he started quietly, making Hank pause. “It would be wisdom. You know how dangerous it is. Dinkster knew the risks… is it really worth risking you, too?”

“You can’t scare me out of it, Jordan,” Hank replied. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ve made my decision.” Hank lifted his helmet to his head and turned to walk away, confidence in his frame.

And then Jordan did what he would always believe was the right thing, though he would regret it for the rest of his life.

Jordan took a step forward, adrenaline and terror shooting through his veins, and told Hank,  _ “Stop.” _

Hank stopped.

And Jordan’s heart plummeted into the pit of his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more part to go!! And there's definitely going to be a fight involved in it, Hank is NOT happy about any of this.


	3. The Crow & The Fall

“Hank-”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

_“Hank, I-”_

“Shut the fuck up!” Hank shouted, turning on his heel and clenching his hands into fists. “I can’t- I can’t _believe_ you, Sparklez- do you even _understand_ what you _did?”_ Hank charged ahead before Jordan could answer the question. “You violated my goddamn free will because, I don’t know, you didn’t _trust me_ or some shit, and now you have the audacity to- to _stand there_ and act all apologetic when you literally admitted five seconds ago that you still think it was the fuckin’ right decision!” Hank’s entire body was heaving as he glared daggers at Jordan. “Get out of my house, you jackass.”

“I’m sorry,” Jordan murmured as Hank took a step forward and placed his hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword. “I just- Hank…”

“I _said,”_ Hank spat, drawing his sword and levelling it at Jordan’s chest, “get out of my house.”

Jordan’s hand twitched towards his own sword, but he didn’t grab it. It wasn’t worth it. Hank had a right to be angry. And here, outside of the arena, what was to stop them seriously injuring each other by accident? “Okay,” Jordan said. “Okay. I’ll go.”

“And don’t fucking come back!” Hank yelled after him as he went for the door.

Jordan closed the door behind him and hurried away along the path that led back to the centre of town - or spawn, as it had been nicknamed. He wished there was an easier way to get around, but unfortunately, the paths were it. He’d heard something about a rail system getting set up, but clearly it was a work in progress.

Soon, Jordan arrived back at his house, thoughts scattered across his mind as if a tornado had gone through it. He was just about to head down into his snow-hidden base when the loud flapping of wings caught his attention.

“Hello, stranger,” Kara cooed from a nearby rooftop, her huge jet-black wings arched over her head. “I saw you get kicked out of your, uh, friend’s place.”

Jordan looked up at her and winced as the sunlight glared in his eyes. “I didn’t get kicked out,” he objected. “We’re just… having a fight, that’s all.”

“Relationship drama.” Kara nodded solemnly, then slid down from the roof and landed neatly in the snow.

“Don’t say it like that,” Jordan replied with a sigh. “I… I did something I shouldn’t have and now he’s pissed at me.” He shrugged. “It’s not a big deal, it’ll be fine,” he lied.

Kara narrowed her dark eyes at him. “Sure,” she drawled, sounding as if she didn’t believe him. “What exactly did you _do?_ Hank’s hard to piss off.”

Jordan cleared his throat and took a step back. He trusted Kara, as much as he could trust anybody, really, even though they hadn’t met very long ago, and somebody else _should_ know what he was capable of. “Come inside. I don’t want anybody to overhear.”

“It’s that bad, huh?” she commented, walking past him with a rustle of feathers. Kara disappeared through the snow first, then Jordan followed.

Jordan leaned back against the smooth stone wall, folding his arms over his chest. He looked up at the ceiling and made a long exhale, sounding dejected.

“Jordan?” Kara prompted tentatively.

“My mutation,” Jordan started. He hesitated. “I can… well, it’s not quite like mind control, but when I’m angry or upset or scared I can… I mean, I haven’t tested it that much, but I can at least do simple commands, and I don’t know if it works without strong emotions or anything, we’ve kind of been trying to keep it secret…”

Kara’s eyes widened. “You used it on Hank and now he’s pissed at you,” she said quickly. “You- oh my god, Jordan.”

“He was going to do something stupid that was going to put him in danger!” Jordan exclaimed, defensive. “I know it was terrible and I’ll never do it again and I feel bad but I’d rather have him be pissed at me than _die,_ Kara.”

Kara shook her head. “You’re making some sense, but _Jordan…”_

Jordan took a step forward and turned away. “I already heard this from Hank, I don’t need it from you, too,” he muttered. “Anyway, I didn’t really know what I was doing, I’d only done it once before and I was just… so scared, Kara…”

Kara rested her hand on Jordan’s shoulder and Jordan turned his head to look back at her. “You fucked up,” she said simply.

“I know,” Jordan replied sadly. “Hank is… well, we didn’t know each other before the world ended, but it was shortly after that we met, so he feels like… the only person I’ve got left, y’know? I don’t want this to be the end. I was- I was just trying to keep him safe.”

“I can see that.” And suddenly Kara was hugging him, and it was almost a double hug because of her wings wrapping around him as well. “You did the wrong thing, but you’re a good man,” she whispered. “You should apologize.”

“I tried and he kicked me out of his house,” Jordan said, breaking the hug, but her wings continued to curl around his back.

“Try harder,” Kara suggested. She hesitated. “And do it soon.”

Jordan’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why?” he asked. When Kara didn’t reply, he continued, “Is there something you know that I don’t?”

Kara waved her hand dismissively. “It’s nothing,” she insisted. “Just don’t want you two to be mad at each other for too long.”

“Alright.” Jordan didn’t quite believe her, but he didn’t know why she would lie. “Don’t tell anybody about-”

“I won’t,” Kara assured him. “Good luck.”

* * *

Jordan had been noticing the posters appearing on the walls of buildings - Schlatt 2020, along with numbers that didn’t mean anything to him and splatters of red paint. He’d also been noticing that Cooper and his associates had been ripping them down as fast as Schlatt & Co. could get them up, in an almost comical propaganda war. What Jordan _hadn’t_ been noticing, however, was Schlatt’s ambition becoming more than just a bit, and his measures growing even more extreme. Not until the challenge, that was.

The date and time were announced to everybody - Cooper vs Schlatt, a duel to the death for the title of president, as Schlatt called it, or mayor, as Cooper called it, of SMPLive. Cooper, Jordan heard, hadn’t even agreed to the duel at that point, but was then pressured into it by his supporters. Jordan thought the whole thing was an awful idea and he hadn’t intended to go, but he also hadn’t apologized to Hank yet and thought it might be a good place to do so, because it would be hard for Hank to avoid him as he’d been doing.

On the day of the challenge, Jordan suited up in his armour just in case things went south, packed a small bag of items he might need, and headed off to spawn. Little did Jordan know, it would be the last time he would see his snowy home.

A crowd (in the loosest sense of the word) had already gathered around the arena, and Jordan quickly found Kara standing by the giant tree nearby. She beckoned to him with her wing and said, “I was worried about this.”

“You knew this was going to happen?” Jordan questioned, wishing she had told him if she did.

Kara nodded. “Er, I thought it might. Didn’t want to worry anyone, but…” She looked him up and down. “Good, you’re wearing armour. I just- I’ve got a bad feeling.” Kara glanced around. “I don’t see any of the engineers yet, do you?”

“The engineers?” Jordan repeated, looking around as well. Hank, Dinkster, Michael, Josh… Kara was right, none of them seemed to be present. “Wonder if they’re all caught up working on the Nether portal.” The freakish hell dimension in which Dinkster had been trapped was still being explored, despite the protests of Jordan and many others. After Hank and Jordan’s fight, Hank had apparently gone into the Nether on an exploratory mission with backup, which had just made Jordan more furious about the situation.

“Probably,” Kara replied, and they left it at that.

Hank soon appeared by himself, seeming anxious. Jordan attempted to make his way over to his friend, but Hank vanished into the arena and Jordan quickly lost him. He’d lost Kara as well on the way inside and ended up standing next to Altrive and Krinios on the balcony overlooking the arena.

“Do either of you know more about this whole,” Jordan gestured vaguely towards the arena, “thing than I do?” He glanced at Krinios’ one startling blue eye and then looked over at Altrive, slightly unsettled but getting used to it.

“Schlatt wants to take over SMPLive from Cooper because he thinks he’ll do a better job - and I mean, he’s not exactly wrong,” Altrive explained. “The whole fight to the death thing was Ty’s idea, actually. Apparently Schlatt wasn’t too in favour of the idea but was then convinced to go through with it.” Altrive paused and bit his lip. “Cooper’s already sworn that he won’t go through with the ‘to the death’ thing and spare Schlatt’s life if he wins, but Schlatt…”

“You think Schlatt would actually kill Cooper?” Jordan questioned.

Krinios and Altrive were both quiet, before Krinios finally said, “I don’t know. He’s so ambitious and competitive… and he’s been getting meaner the more goat-like he becomes.”

“Schlatt’s a ram,” Jordan corrected under his breath.

Neither of them seemed to have heard. “He’s still mutating,” Altrive added, “and that’s really fuckin’ dangerous.”

“We still don’t know how any of this works, really,” Krinios put in. “You should ask Hank about it, he knows way more about the… mutation thing.”

“I will,” Jordan promised. He could use it as an excuse to start talking to Hank, apologize for what he did… “Do you see him anywhere?”

Altrive pointed over Jordan’s shoulder. “He’s with Travis and Ted.” There was a hint of pity in his eyes as if Altrive knew that Jordan and Hank had been fighting.

“Thanks,” said Jordan. He said goodbye to Krinios and Altrive and made his way over to where Hank was conversing with the two other men.

“I don’t think Schlatt can-” Hank broke off in the middle of his sentence as he saw Jordan approaching. His eyes narrowed and he frowned. “Jordan. What do you want?” His tone was harsh.

Ted and Travis both seemed surprised by Hank’s attitude, but Jordan just pulled on a dejected expression. “May I talk to you downstairs for a moment?” he asked, glancing over at the others. “Sorry, you two, it won’t be long.”

Hank sighed. “Sure,” he answered. “Might as well get this over with,” he added under his breath, and Jordan pursed his lips.

They headed down through one of the towers to the second floor, where the corridor was pretty much deserted. Jordan led Hank a bit further from the stairwell just in case they could be overheard, then stopped. Hank glared at him sourly.

“I want to apologize,” Jordan said simply. “No excuses. I apologize and it won’t happen again.” He folded his hands behind his back and rocked onto his heels, waiting for Hank’s response.

Hank was silent and motionless for a few tense moments, then looked up at Jordan and slapped him in the face. Jordan staggered, his cheek stinging from the blow, and hissed, “Ow!”

“You’re a dumbass motherfucker, Sparklez,” Hank spat, “and dumbass motherfuckers get slapped in the face for using their bullshit magic powers to piss off their friends.” He paused, expression softening as he started to smirk. “You’re my best friend, though, so I accept your apology. And if you do it again I will fucking kill you instead of just fuming about it for a week and a half.” Hank pulled on a sweet smile. “Sound fair?”

Jordan gave a nervous laugh. “Yeah.” He paused and scratched the back of his head. “Um… well, now that that’s dealt with, there was actually something I wanted to ask you about.”

Hank cocked an eyebrow. “Shoot,” he replied. “Should’ve known you were only apologizing ‘cause you wanted something.” His smirk widened, indicating that he was joking.

“Ha ha.” Jordan rolled his eyes. “It’s about the mutations. Krinios and Altrive were discussing how Schlatt’s still mutating and that’s dangerous, and they told me you could explain it more thoroughly.”

Hank tapped his foot on the floor and pulled on a thoughtful expression. “Let me put it like this, Sparklez. Have you noticed how all of the mutations seem to have a negative, a drawback that prevents their mutation from being too overpowered?” he inquired.

Jordan tipped his head back and narrowed his eyes, then nodded. He hadn’t really thought about it before, but Hank was right.

“Schlatt doesn’t seem to have anything more than the horns and the pupils, but he keeps making deals with people, and those deals keep… well, they bite the ass of whoever agreed to it, even if they get what they initially wanted out of it,” Hank explained. “He seems to be getting a lot more persuasive as time goes on - not to your level, of course, but enough that it’s dangerous. And because it’s getting worse, we don’t know when it will stop. I don’t trust him, and I’m almost scared of him.”

“How can you tell who’s done mutating and who isn’t?” Jordan asked, eyebrows furrowing in concern. This was… very bad, to say the least. Something had to be done about it.

Hank let out a small noise of amusement. “You can’t,” he answered simply. “But it seems like the further the mutation goes, the more animalistic or villainous the person gets. So I think you’re fine.” Hank paused, then added quietly, “Was worried for a bit there, though.”

Jordan felt a rush of regret and shame. “God, I-” he started to apologize again.

Hank shushed him. “We’re all dealing with our own shit, Sparklez. I can’t imagine how difficult to handle your mutation must be. The temptation of just being able to make everyone do what you want? I know I’d end up drowning in it instantly.” Hank slung his arm through Jordan’s. “I’ll help you out. We need, like, a code word or something in case you’re feeling like you might snap.”

“Let’s figure that out later,” Jordan said sheepishly. “I still don’t even know how far my… thing… stretches. What the limits are, y’know? Maybe your engineer friends could help with that.” Jordan hesitated. “And this duel… if we don’t know how stable Schlatt is, I… I think it should be stopped.”

“Me too,” Hank agreed. Jordan opened his mouth to make a suggestion, but Hank continued before he could speak. “No, Jordan, we’re not using your powers. I never want you to use those on another human being without their consent ever again, unless they’re trying to kill you or something.”

“But Schlatt could kill Cooper!” Jordan protested. “I could stop them-”

Hank shook his head sternly. “No. We’ve - I’ve - got a plan. Dinkster, Michael, Josh, and I already discussed this. We’re going to stop the fight _without_ violating anybody else’s free will.” Hank grasped Jordan’s hands in his. “Promise me you won’t.”

Jordan blinked. “I promise.”

“Good.” Hank let go of his hands. “Let’s go back and see what’s going on.”

As Hank turned, Jordan called, “Aren’t you going to tell me what the plan is?”

“Best if you don’t know,” Hank replied with a tight smile. “C’mon, Sparkly.”

* * *

Jordan’s ears were ringing and he gasped, struggling to get up from where he’d been thrown during the explosion. His gaze was blurry and his memory was fuzzy - he thought he’d hit his head - and there was a bit of rubble pinning his leg to the ground. With a heave, he managed to dislodge it, then staggered to his feet. Someone grabbed his shoulder and pulled him away from the smoke, and Jordan could hear sounds but not words.

“Sparklez?” the man was saying. Jordan blinked bleary eyes. “Sparklez? _Jordan?_ Can you hear me? We have to get out of here.” Hank shifted his grip down onto Jordan’s upper arm and continued to pull him through the burning arena halls.

“Was this part of your _plan?”_ Jordan spat weakly. They’d been watching the fight apprehensively when the first explosion had happened, then the second, then the third. Jordan had lost count of the blasts after that. “Blow the whole arena to bits?”

“We destabilized the Nether portal,” Hank grumbled. “It was supposed to just cause the ground to shake and make everybody freak out, maybe drop the centre of the arena down a few feet, that sort of thing. It… was more unstable than we expected. Dink and Josh are trying to get it under control.”

“They’re still _down there?!”_ Jordan exclaimed as Hank pulled him around some burning wreckage that had fallen from the ceiling.

“Cooper's down there too, trying to help. Everybody else has scattered,” Hank told him quickly. Jordan gulped.

“Not everybody,” called Kara’s voice from what used to be the floor above, now a patchwork of holes. “You boys need a lift?”

“Oh, thank God,” Jordan breathed.

Kara landed next to them. “I can’t carry both of you very far, but at least you’ll get out of the arena,” Kara said. “I’m so glad the mutations all come with varying levels of superhuman strength. Makes this shit easier.” She grabbed Hank with one arm and Jordan with the other, then beat her wings furiously to take off again. It seemed like a struggle, but Jordan would rather take his chances with the crow lady than the burning ruin of the arena.

Kara set them down just outside the arena and stumbled slightly, looking exhausted. “Is- are they going to be able to shut that thing down?” she huffed.

Hank hesitated. “If they haven’t been able to stop it by now, I… I don’t think so. It’ll grow larger and larger and consume more and more of SMPLive until it finally becomes too big and breaks down. We have to leave. Not just this part of spawn, we have to _leave._ Take whatever we have and go.”

Jordan looked between Kara and Hank. He’d thought this place could be home. He’d thought he could be happy here. Tears burned behind his eyes but he held them back.

“I don’t want to abandon everyone,” Kara murmured, “and everything we’ve built…”

“We don’t have a choice, Kara. We can’t exactly gather up everyone again, either - we’re all too scattered. They’ll figure out that they need to go, too. We should leave before things get any worse,” Hank said. He then sidestepped to avoid a falling piece of burning wreckage. “Case in point. The arena’s about to collapse.” Hank and Kara both looked at him expectantly.

Jordan lifted his chin. “Let’s go,” he said in a weaker voice than he’d hoped. “We’ll find somewhere else, with new people. Let’s go.”

_Everything I love burns,_ he thought, _but my friends will be with me._

And the trio fled into the wilderness, the fires of SMPLive still raging behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, this fic is DONE! ...I think this is actually the first time I've ever completed a fic with more than one chapter, which is something. Anyway, hope you enjoyed, I love writing these guys so much lol


End file.
